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Ticket Taker was… an efficient man to say the least. Pragmatic and responsible, he carried the weight of the circus’s logistics on his shoulders without a single complaint. He was both the gears and the grease that allowed it to run smoothly and to perfection.
Throughout your relationship, you were no stranger to seeing how hard he worked. There were countless nights he’d arrive to your shared tent in the early hours of the morning, removing his top hat and split mask with careful hands before sinking into the old armchair in the corner. Elbows resting on his knees, he wouldn’t say a word. Just a single, long, bone-weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire day’s burden.
You tried so hard to make his life easier.
It was the least he deserved after all. You learned his favorite meals and snacks from the others and had them ready when he finally arrived home. You organized his papers into neat, color-coded stacks – a small sticky note with your loopy lettering summarizing which parts he still needed to take a look at. As your duties to the circus were not as long or as intensive as his, you made sure to keep your shared space spotless so he wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
At night, you wore headphones and made sure to keep your laptop angled as far away from the bed as possible. Sometimes, you wouldn’t even watch or play anything unless you knew for sure he wouldn’t be arriving anytime soon, terrified that even the soft glow of your screen or even a stifled laugh might disturb the rest and quiet he so desperately needed.
On the rare nights he reached for you, you became exactly what you thought he wanted – what he needed. Soft and undemanding – a good doll. You took only what he gave, even when your body ached with an intense longing for more – deeper touches, longer nights, rougher hands. Just the thought of it made your face flush with shame. You were so greedy. Selfish.
Despite your best efforts, sometimes it simply wasn’t enough.
Sometimes, the latest episode of your show was too funny and your laugh escaped before you could stop it. Sometimes, you got caught up in your own duties for the circus and dinner wasn’t ready by the time he arrived home. Worst of all were the mistakes – a form you had misplaced, a tax expense sheet that you had calculated incorrectly that he then had to redo late into the night. He never raised his voice. He never lashed out. He simply… deflated. His shoulders dropped and his heterochromatic eyes dimmed with exhaustion as he sat down and quietly fixed the mistakes. Your mistakes.
In those quiet hours in the dark, your worries whispered louder and louder, one over the other till it was a constant cacophony of anxiety. You turned onto your side, pressing your ear into the pillow beneath your head as if it could drown out the noise of your own mind.
Ticket Taker lay on his back, chest rising and falling slowly as he slept. It made your heart hurt in a way, to see that the only time his face seemed to relax was when he was asleep. Your fingers clutched the blankets against your chest a bit tighter. You wanted to reach out. Brush the loose strand of hair away from his forehead. Trace over the sharp angle of his cheekbone gently with your finger. Press a kiss against the corner of his mouth and tell him that you saw him and appreciated all that he does.
You didn’t.
The last thing he needed was one more thing interrupting his rest and asking for his attention.
The worrying in your mind became louder as you settled for tracing over his features with your eyes. You often wondered if maybe you were making his already busy schedule unbearable. Inconvenient, even.
He was already stretched so thin. Having to keep up with you and your mistakes was surely making it worse, no?
It was at that moment you made a promise to yourself, quietly and painfully, to become less. Less loud. Less obstructive. Less needy. You could become that, someone that made an effort to ease his burden, not add to it.
One evening, Ticket Taker came home to find the tent almost eerily perfect.
Dinner was waiting on the small dining table, still warm judging by the steam rising from the plate. His desk in the back had three stacks of papers, all immaculately sorted, colored tabs peaking through the sides to further organize them. The laundry basket at the foot of the bed sat empty, and hanging from the wardrobe next to it was one of his navy and gold suits. Perfectly steamed, with no visible wrinkles and a clean tie tucked into the jacket pocket.
You were sitting on the couch facing the door in one of his old shirts. After seeing that he had arrived, you had shut your laptop quickly before straightening, hands folded neatly in your lap, smiling as if you were presenting him with a report card.
He paused in the entryway. Even with the mask blocking most of his face, you knew him so well you could almost see the confused pinch in his brows as his eyes scanned the room before landing on you.
“My dear,” he said slowly, removing his hat and mask with steady hands, “it appears you’ve been rather busy today.”
You nodded, your lips pursing together in a way even you couldn’t tell was meant to be a frown or a smile. “You’ve been having a rough time lately. I wanted to make sure everything was nice for when you got home.”
He didn’t say anything to that. He crossed the small space slowly before approaching where you sat on the couch. After giving him a slight nod, you scooted back allowing him to take a seat next to you. For a long moment he simply looked at you – really looked at you. Your eyes widened briefly before staring at your lap. You watched as one of his white-gloved hands reached out and gently took one of your own.
“My dear,” he said again, “you’ve been trying so hard lately.” He brought your clasped hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss against each knuckle so light it sent a chill down your spine. “Almost… too hard.”
You froze; eyes still focused on where his lips were brushing against your fingers. It felt as though your own heart beat was stuttering.
After a second, you returned to yourself, pulling your hands away from him and back into your lap. You tried to ignore the way his eyebrow quirked at your reaction. Luckily for you, he didn’t reply. Instead, he turned more to face you, patiently waiting for your reply.
“I… I just – I,” your voice cracked as you looked away and focused on a loose thread on your shirt. “I just don’t want to be another thing you have to manage.” The words came out in a single breath, as if this was your last opportunity to speak at all.
Ticket Taker said nothing, his eyes shining in the dim light in such a way that encouraged all the words and thoughts you’ve been holding onto for weeks to spill out.
“You work so hard, and so much,” you whispered. “You come home exhausted every night. There’s a part of me that keeps thinking… if I’m too loud, too messy, too much, all I’d be doing is just making your life harder. Like I did when I misplaced that form you had to redo. Or when I screwed up with the calculations. You looked so tired having to fix my mistakes. I just keep wondering if maybe you’d be better off without having to deal with me on top of everything else.”
Your heartbeat had become so loud it thundered in your ears. You dug your nails into the palm of your hands, feeling the way the shallow crescents bloomed into your skin. Your voice cracked.
“…I don’t want to be a burden.”
It was quiet between you for a long moment. Then Ticket Taker did something that surprised you – he leaned over before pulling you into his lap, wrapping both arms around you and holding you tight against his chest like you would vanish the second he let you go.
“Oh sweetheart…” he breathed, voice thick with emotion in a way that was somewhat jarring for you to hear from him. “You could never be a burden.”
His lips found their way to the crown of your head before pressing a slow kiss there, then he moved further down pressing another one against your temple.
“When I come home tired, it is because my work is demanding,” he said gently. “Not because of you. It is never because of you. When I come back from the end of the day and see you – whether or not dinner is ready or the laundry is done – my shoulders feel lighter. Seeing you, not what you’ve done or haven’t done, is what makes me realize that I am home. Because you are home.”
His back sank into the couch cushions as he titled your chin upward to meet his warm, steady gaze.
“I do not need a silent, perfect assistant. I need you. The real you. The one who laughs loudly at your favorite shows. The one who sometimes forgets dinner because you were lost in a book or helping others. Even the version of you that makes mistakes. I love every part of it, because all of it is you. Your mistakes do not frustrate me. They remind me of how real you are. They remind me that just as you help take care of me, I get to take care of someone that I cherish with my whole being.”
He ran his gloved thumb under your cheek where you felt a lone tear run down.
“You do not have to earn me. You do not have to earn my love through being quiet or useful or low-maintenance. I did not fall in love with a perfectly robotic partner. I fell in love with you – with your warmth, your kindness, your heart, even your little messes.”
You were fully crying now. You buried your face against his neck, tears and snot freely running down your face, probably soaking into the silk fabric of his tie. You felt Ticket Taker sigh, though not out of exhaustion, but rather out of the quiet heartache that came from watching someone you love suffer unnecessarily. He pulled you closer as he placed his lips right above the shell of your ear.
“I want to see and experience how loud you get when you’re happy or having fun. I want you to ask for more on the nights you’re craving it. I want you to let me see when you’re struggling and help you as you always help me instead of trying so hard to disappear so I won’t notice. Please let me carry some of your weight, my love. It’s what I’m here for.”
His hand moved from where it had been rubbing soothing circles on your back to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. You were sure you looked like a mess, but the way Ticket Taker was looking at you it was as if he was seeing the most precious gift the universe could bestow upon him. His eyes dipped towards your lips and you leaned forward without hesitation. The kiss was slow, deep, and full of quiet reverence.
The two of you separated slightly, just enough that when you opened your eyes, all you could see was him. The love, concern, and tenderness that was there was enough to make you want to lean in to kiss him again.
“You are not inconvenient. You are not too much. You are the brightest and best part of my every day. And I would rather come home to fix thousands upon thousands of your mistakes than to come to some empty, perfect tent without you in it. Because at that point, it wouldn’t even be a home, my dear, for it isn’t home without you.”
He pressed another kiss to your lips. Quicker and softer this time. You tried your best not to chase after him once he moved back, resting his forehead against your own. The warm breath of his words made your lips tingle with want.
“Please…” his voice dropped into the gentlest whisper. “Please stop trying to make yourself smaller for my sake. I want every single piece of you. Especially the ones that are loud, messy, imperfect, and completely mine.”